


Party like it's 2005

by aschicca



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: A little schmoopy, M/M, a little angsty, a little silly, mention of illness, timeline: post-513, timeline: season 1, timeline: season 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 22:47:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5108423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aschicca/pseuds/aschicca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I recently celebrated my tenth year on Livejournal and opened that entry to prompts. Three friends decided to play and these are the three little stories that came from that. More might be added in case other people request. For now, this is what you'll find here:</p><p>1. Hurt/Comfort during the Cancer arc in season 4,<br/>2. A fun game of pool set in season 1,<br/>3. A fairytale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt for Chapter 1: I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort so I'd like to see Justin taking care of Brian after one of his radiation appointments when he's feeling particularly awful. Requested by piksa.

I hate this. My body is not my own, I can’t control anything; it just does whatever the fuck it wants to do and that’s usually puking, shivering, sweating, and hurting. I absolutely fucking hate this. I hate lying on this bed only able to hug my mid-section and shiver. This bed wasn’t made for this shit. It’s here for pleasure, not pain. I should be fucking a willing ass – preferably attached to a blond boy with blue eyes – right this moment, and instead I’m here barely able to keep my eyes open. Fuck, I hate this.

I can feel the mattress dip and the movement hurts this stupid, useless, one-balled carcass of mine. I turn around to berate the source of this new bout of pain – as if I fucking need anymore of that – and it takes me forever to be able to lie on my back. Moving it’s exhausting, and painful, and I fucking hate this. My eyes are still closed but I open them to glare at the man disturbing my misery. I must have failed because he’s smiling at me. His eyes are clear and devoid of any pity, and fuck if seeing this doesn’t calm me down.

“Hey…” I tell him in a hoarse, rasping voice. You try puking for a straight hour and then tell me how easy it is to speak.

“Hey,” he answers. “Were you able to sleep?”

“Sleep is overrated.” Talking hurts, but seeing him laugh is maybe worth the pain.

“I’d ask you if you want something to eat or drink but I’d like to avoid you trying to kill me. We’ll leave that for a time when you feel strong enough to be able to lift a hand at least.” Justin jokes, grinning, and he startles a laugh out of me.

“Little shit.” 

That’s why he’s still here, why I haven’t tried to throw him out again. He doesn’t coddle me, he doesn’t treat me like I’m made of glass – although that’s exactly how I feel at times. He doesn’t pity me. I know he’s worried, I can see how scared he is, but he keeps it to himself and doesn’t treat me any differently. That’s the only way I’m able to accept his help, his closeness, his comfort. It doesn’t surprise me that he understands.

Justin starts talking about mindless things: new ideas for Rage, both the comic and the movie that pretty boy from Hollywood wants to produce; little idiotic stories about this or that client of the Diner; ideas for paintings. I let his voice rush over me and close my eyes again. I won’t be able to sleep but having him here relaxes me enough that I can feel the shivers subside.

“Thank you,” I whisper, unsure if he heard me. Hoping he didn’t.

His hand finds mine, our fingers entwine, but he doesn’t tighten his hold. He never stops talking, never acknowledges my words, never does anything that hurts me. 

Justin talks and I breathe, and maybe I hate this a little less now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: A fun game of pool at Woody's set in S1. Requested by techgirl_on_ij.

Entering Woody’s, Justin easily spotted the table where Brian sat with his friends. He approached it and he cheerily greeted everyone.. Michael glared at him in reply, while Ted inclined his beer towards Justin simply acknowledging his presence. Emmett’s “Hey, baby,” was the most affectionate response he got.

Brian simply raised an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing out on a school night?” He asked.

“I thought we could shoot some pool,” Justin replied, propping his hip to Brian’s chair in a provocative way.

“Yeah, Brian,” Emmett grinned. “The kid wanted you to lay him on the _bed of the table_!” 

The group laughed and Justin blushed. 

“Is that what you had in mind, Sunshine?” Brian asked sarcastically.

“’Course it is,” Ted said. “He was hoping you would take care of his _cue ball_ , Brian!”

“Oohhh,” Emmett interjected. “I bet he wouldn’t mind taking care of your _shaft_ for you, too!”

Every pun was making Justin blush a bit more, although he wasn’t uncomfortable and knew it was all in good fun. To be honest, he had hoped that Brian would take him home for the night and if all this suggestive talk about sex could speed things up, Justin wasn’t about to complain. He pressed his hip to Brian’s chair even more and let Ted and Emmett have their fun. Even Michael had stopped glaring and was chuckling softly. That had to count for something.

“He wants to take your _cue ball in hand_!”

“He so wouldn’t mind if you used a _force draw_ to hit his _center spot_!”

“What he really wants, though, is for Brian to get a good _grip_ , put him into _position_ , deliver a great _opening break shot_ , and drive the 8 ball directly in the _corner pocket_!”

“He’d do anything for a good _seeding_!”

“Oh if only he could get a _kiss shot_ somewhere in between!”

Emmett and Ted were really on a roll and after a while everyone, Justin included, was laughing out loud. When Emmett started describing in detail what Brian could do with Justin’s _butt of the cue_ and how a _double hit_ would totally win him that game, Justin suddenly found himself dislodged from his position against Brian’s chair as Brian got up.

“All right, kids, settle down,” Brian said, and then turned towards Justin. “You want to play?” He asked, and Justin nodded. “Good. Let’s go.” And with that, he grabbed Justin’s hand and made his way towards the exit.

“Uh, Brian? Pool table is that way…” Justin pointed out.

“I’m the one _calling the shots_ here, Sunshine, and I’d rather not have an audience when I make my _kill shot_ on your _clear ball_ ,” Brian said, tongue in cheek.

Justin laughed and followed Brian out. Before leaving Woody’s, Justin turned around to give a thumb up to Emmett who waved back, cheering. Michael was back to glaring but Justin couldn’t find it in himself to care.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Original prompt: I'm into Once Upon a Time right now, perhaps some sort of fairy tale B/J fic is my suggestion. Requested by sher1663.

Everyone always complimented Gus for being intelligent, witty, and bright; talking with him was usually very entertaining and left people with the distinct impression of having just spoken with an adult. His six years of age, however, showed perfectly whenever he was ill. 

“Once Upon A Time,” Justin said, caressing Gus’ feverish brow. The boy had decided he wanted to be told a fairytale before going to sleep, and he had been adamant: Justin had to be the storyteller, and he had to make the tale up. “In a land far far away…”

“Why do all stories begin like this, Jus?” Gus interrupted.

“Because people need to stall and take their time, especially when they’re asked to come up with a story in the blink of an eye, Sonny Boy,” Brian replied, leaning against the doorframe of Gus’ bedroom.

“Brian…” Justin scolded, a soft smile on his face.

“Do you want to be the one telling me a story, daddy?” Gus asked, glaring at his father, and Brian raised his hands in surrender and left the room, accompanied by Justin’s laugh.

“So, where were we? Oh, yes. Once Upon A Time, in a land far far away, a handsome prince lived in a big, beautiful castle. He had friends, he was admired, and had loyal subjects, but a witch had cast a spell on him: she had cursed him with a heart of stone. The prince was unable to love.”

“That’s sad, Jus. Why did the witch curse the prince?” Gus asked.

“She was jealous, of course. He was handsome and successful, and she hated him for it.”

“What was the witch’s name? And the prince’s?”

“Hmm, let’s see,” Justin stalled. “The witch was called Claire, and the prince… his name was Brian.”

“Like daddy?”

“Like your father, yes. Do you mind?” Gus shook his head and gestured for Justin to continue. “Okay, well, so prince Brian couldn’t love anyone and his friends were so worried about him that they decided to search the lands for a cure. Prince Brian’s best friend…”

“Was he called Michael?” Gus asked, smirking.

“If you want,” Justin acquiesced, and continued. “Prince Brian’s best friend, Count Michael, was able to find an old wizard who revealed to him the only possibly counterspell: Prince Brian’s heart of stone could only be turned back by true love’s kiss. _‘But how will prince Brian be able to recognize true love if he cannot feel it?’_ Count Michael had asked the wizard. _‘The prince’s beloved will feel it for the both of them, and he will be the one to break the spell.’_ Had been the answer. Count Michael had ran back to the kingdom to tell everyone what he’d learned, and it was decided to throw a ball to find the prince’s true love.”

“Did they find him, Jus?”

“What do you think?”

“I think they did, and I think prince Brian’s true love was blond. Was he, Jus?”

Justin smiled. “Indeed he was, Gus. But he was only a stable boy and he hadn’t been invited to the ball…”

“Oh no! So the ball didn’t work?”

“It did not, Gus, and neither did the other three balls that prince Brian’s friends convinced him to throw. Prince Brian had fun at those balls, dancing and fu… uh… drinking with the men his friends had invited; but none of them was his true love.”

“So what happened?”

“Yes, Justin, tell us, how did _prince Brian_ find his true love?” Brian asked sarcastically, having just returned to the room with a glass of milk for Gus.

“Yes, well, uh… one day he was bored and he wanted to go riding…”

“I can see that,” Brian grinned.

“Shush, daddy, don’t interrupt,” Gus demanded. “The prince wanted a horse so the stable boy found one for him and they met, is that what happened?”

“That’s exactly what happened, Gus. The stable boy had always loved the prince from afar, and when he had the chance to speak with him he couldn’t believe his luck. The prince was impressed by the attentions the stable boy had for his horse,” Justin glared at Brian when he snorted, “and he asked the stable boy to go riding with him. That’s how they became friends.”

“And did the stable boy kiss the prince?”

“Well, not that day, no. They started riding together every morning and the stable boy fell more and more in love with the prince so one day, after they’d known each other for a couple of months, the stable boy gathered all his courage and kissed the prince.”

“And what happened?” Gus asked, excitedly. “Did the prince’s heart heal?”

“At first, the prince was too startled to reciprocate the kiss so the stable boy, thinking he’d made a terrible mistake and was about to be arrested for assaulting a member of the Royal family, stopped and took a step back. But then, the prince grabbed his hand and pulled him back, so they kissed for a second time. As soon as their lips met, a beautiful light appeared and surrounded the two men. They kissed for a long time and when they stopped, the light entered the prince’s chest and cured his heart.”

“Yes! I knew the stable boy could do it!” Gus cheered. “Did they live happily ever after?”

“Yes, Gus. They lived happily ever after and…”

“And the prince was never allowed to kiss anyone else on the mouth, isn’t that right Justin?” Brian asked, smirking.

“That is exactly right, Brian,” Justin said, seriously, and then winked at Gus. “Right, now it’s time for you to drink your milk and sleep, little man.”

After Gus finished his milk, Brian tucked him in wishing him a good night, then he and Justin started towards the door. 

“Daddy?” Gus called.

“Yes, Sonny Boy?”

“Was the stable boy’s name Justin?”

“What do you think, Gus?” Brian asked instead of replying.

“I think it was. Every Brian should have his own Justin,” Gus said solemnly.

Laughing softly, Brian nodded at his son before taking Justin’s hand and leaving the bedroom. “Come on, stable boy,” Brian said when he and Justin were alone in the corridor. “This prince needs a good riding.”

“Yes, Sire. As you wish, Sire.” Justin happily agreed.


End file.
